Married To The Human Calculator

My mother was convinced I’d never get married, primarily because I spent money with the reckless abandon of a trust fund kid—even though I was anything but. She blamed an $18 DoorDash delivery and a four-dollar latte. “That $18 takeout?” she’d lecture. “You could have cooked a full meal for ten dollars and had leftovers.” “A four-dollar coffee? You could just splash some cold water on your face straight from the faucet. If that doesn’t work, give yourself a good, hard slap to wake up.” She finally shut up the year I brought home a man more financially meticulous than a tax auditor: Landon Bell.

01 When I told my best friend, Jess, I was bringing Landon home for the holidays, she still couldn’t wrap her head around it. She didn’t understand how I—Vera Chen, the girl who viewed cash as disposable confetti—could possibly be with someone so ruthlessly cheap and painfully calculating. Landon insisted on splitting every joint purchase down to the very last cent. In the months we’d been dating, every single dinner, movie, or road trip was strictly split the bill. Gifts were a sterile exchange, not a romantic gesture. If I gave him a $150 designer candle, he would immediately look up the exact price and then, without fail, send me back a gift of precisely $150.00 in value. No more, no less. Jess was still staring, waiting for an explanation. I rolled my eyes, pulling my suitcase onto the bed. “A girl’s gotta love what she loves, Jess. You might not like cilantro, but I do.” I ignored her skeptical silence and focused on packing. Since graduating college and starting work, I rarely went home, usually only making the pilgrimage for a long weekend or the major winter holidays. Just a few days ago, my mother, Eleanor, had sent her usual passive-aggressive text: “Your cousin’s son is already running around. I haven’t even seen a photo of a boyfriend.” I hadn’t told her about Landon right away, afraid she’d get her hopes up for nothing. But after six solid months, I felt secure enough to present him to the family. Before we left, I gave her a quick call. “Mom, I’m on my way. And yes, I’m bringing a boyfriend this year.” As expected, she was ecstatic, cutting me off before I could finish and already shouting the news to the rest of the family—the extended clan was notoriously nosy. It wasn’t until we were almost boarding that I realized I forgot to mention one detail: “We’re taking the regional train, not the express. It’ll take a few hours longer.” The regional train was Landon’s idea. When he pulled up the ticketing site, he noted the slower, regional ticket was exactly one-third the price of the high-speed one. “The extra hours?” he’d said with a shrug. “You can watch a movie or just sleep it off. It passes quickly.” Given my mother’s lifelong crusade against my spending habits, his logic, infuriating as it was, was sound. I sent her a quick text to update her. The three dots indicating she was typing flashed on the screen for a long time. Then they disappeared. Then they came back. Finally, her reply arrived: “Just keep an eye on your luggage.” It was a small miracle. Finding out I had a boyfriend had clearly put her in an excellent mood. Usually, any self-made decision, even a minor one like swapping a shirt color she requested for one that suited her better, resulted in a verbal thrashing. Now, she was offering a rare moment of care. I couldn’t wait to get home. I had another piece of good news to tell them all. 02 When I pushed open the front door, the house was, predictably, full. Aunt Patty’s family was huddled around the dining table, shelling nuts. Uncle Gary and Aunt Brenda were dominating the living room couch, glued to the TV. Dad, Richard, was making tea, and Mom was slicing fruit. Patty, the queen of family gossip, spotted me first. Her eyes immediately scanned my hands and the floor around me. “Back from the big city, and you’re empty-handed?” Her voice, a low rumble, instantly commanded the room. “Shouldn’t you have brought a gift for every elder?” Landon, hauling my large suitcase, stepped in just behind me. When he heard Patty’s question, he paused in the doorway and asked, with genuine curiosity: “Is it a major holiday, or perhaps your birthday, ma’am?” Patty stared blankly. I clarified for her, a small, cold smile playing on my lips. “He’s asking if you expected a gratuitous, unearned handout.” Patty’s face flushed scarlet. She pushed herself up from the table just as Mom emerged from the kitchen, a bowl of cut oranges in her hand. Seeing me, Mom’s expression instantly froze, about to launch into a tirade. But her eyes landed on the tall, impeccably dressed Landon. The transformation was immediate. The thundercloud vanished, replaced by a radiant sun. “You must be Vera’s boyfriend, Landon! Come in, come in!” she chirped. In an instant, we became the focus of the entire family’s attention. We were seated on the two plastic stools by the television, facing a semicircle of judgmental relatives. Mom poured tea and pushed the fruit toward Landon. Aunt Patty, recovering from the insult, couldn’t help herself. “It’s different when you have backup, isn’t it? Having a whole family wait for you like this.” “Wait for us?” I asked, confused. “We’re staying for a week. There’s no rush. You could all have come over tomorrow if you wanted to meet him.” Patty, who had a young son from a late-in-life pregnancy, was usually putting him to bed around this hour. Before she could respond, Aunt Brenda, the most financially aggressive of the lot, jumped in, peppering Landon with questions. “What do you do? Big company? How much is your salary? I have to tell you, around here, the expectation for a down payment or a substantial ring…” “Ahem. Ahem.” Uncle Gary, Brenda’s husband, discreetly interrupted her with a loud cough and frantic eye-signals. Brenda grudgingly clamped her mouth shut. Mom, ever the mediator, tried a gentler approach. “Landon, why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself? How did you and Vera meet?” Landon straightened his back slightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Vera and I met at a networking event. We share similar interests, and it developed from there,” he said smoothly. “I’m just a salaried employee. Work at a standard firm.” Patty scoffed under her breath. “An ordinary office worker. I thought a college grad could do better than a nobody…” A sudden gust of cool evening air swept in from the open balcony, chilling the forced enthusiasm of the room. Mom tried to get the conversation back on track. “Do your parents mind that you’re spending the New Year with us?” Landon smiled brightly. “My mother has my sister to keep her company, ma’am.” He watched the family’s doubtful faces and added the crucial footnote. “My parents divorced a long time ago. My sister and I both chose to stay with Mom.” I felt the need to step in and defend him. “He calls it a ‘standard firm,’ but actually—and his parents—” Aunt Patty cut me off, her patience clearly gone. Her voice was sharp with dismissal. “You brought home this? I bet he doesn’t have a house, and you’ll have to be stuck living with his mother and sister.” She stood up abruptly. “Give me my cash gift. I have to get home to my son. This was a waste of time.” “Cash gift?” I asked. “Don’t you know proper etiquette? The first time you bring a boyfriend home, you give cash envelopes to the elders! What, did living in the city strip you of all courtesy?” The penny dropped. They hadn’t been waiting for me. They had been waiting for a payout. 03 I looked at my parents. Even their faces were tense. Mom finally spoke, defensive and flustered. “I thought you were just going to be a little late. I figured we’d go to the bank and pull some cash tomorrow.” Aunt Brenda, sensing the chaos, decided to play the conciliator. “Vera isn’t leaving right away. The money can wait until tomorrow. She can get a nice bundle ready.” Then she added, her eyes narrowing slightly: “But maybe you can settle up for tonight’s dinner now.” “Your parents were working today, so I went out, bought all the groceries, and cooked everything myself. Just pay me back. We’re ten people here—at a hundred dollars a head, that’s a thousand dollars.” Mom’s jaw dropped. “A thousand dollars? Brenda, what did you buy? We’re just having a simple family dinner, not a banquet!” Uncle Gary quickly stepped in to soothe Mom. “Elsa, your niece is home! As her uncle, I insisted on a high-quality meal! Nothing but the best!” Mom was instantly mollified. Her attitude flipped, and she started urging me to pay. “Vera, you’re an adult now! You can’t let your aunt and uncle foot the bill! Pay Gary back immediately!” If I’d had a wallet or cash on me, I think she would have snatched it right out of my hand. Aunt Patty, not to be outdone, chimed in with her own demand. “Vera didn’t get my little boy a gift when he was born. He waited up for her tonight! She owes him a gold charm.” Dad, who rarely spoke up but always favored his younger sister, added his voice to the chorus. “Your aunt is right, honey. A gold charm wouldn’t hurt your savings, would it?” Everyone knew gold was obscenely expensive. Aunt Brenda leaped to her feet, ready for a full-scale battle. “She only has so many cousins! You’re asking for too much, Patty!” “And you aren’t? A thousand dollars for a few hours of cooking? Did you use gold-plated rice?” Patty shot back. Suddenly, the living room had devolved into a full-scale fish market, relatives screaming over one another. Finally, Mom, utterly exasperated, turned her fury on me. “Vera! You’re a grown woman! Why do you always have to be so careless? Why do you constantly cause trouble and make your family look bad?” It was a ridiculous accusation. I had never realized that coming home was such a minefield of potential offense. But the most ridiculous part was that, even in their rage, they always reached an agreement. Like now. Brenda took a big gulp of tea to calm herself, then smiled at me with predatory sweetness. “Tell you what, Vera. Since it’s the holidays, and you’re family, just give each family five thousand dollars. That will cover everything.” My parents nodded in agreement, relieved. “Yes, that sounds fair.” They assumed I would once again quietly submit to their chaotic bookkeeping. But sitting beside me, Landon Bell had already pulled a laptop from his messenger bag, clicked open a spreadsheet, and started typing.